The Press., 1887-06-23

The ceremonies in Westminster Abbey on Tu esday commemorated two events separa ted by an interval of a year. Early in the m orning of June 20, 1887, William W. died in Windsor Castle, and Victoria, his niece. succeeded to the throne. The coronation was deferred until June 28, 1888.
 A character istic story is told of the cir cumstances in which the princess first learned of the destiny awaiting her. When she was in her thirteenth year ar- rangements were made in parliament for the proclamation ot regency if the king should die before her eighteenth birthday She had lived ith her mother in retire. ment at Kensincton Palace, and had never been told that she as in the direct line of succession to the athrone. Her mother and tutors agreed tn t the time had come when she should be wa rned of the responsi- bilities of the future. Dr. Davys asked her to draw genealogi cal table of English royalty. After puzzling over the upper branches of the tree for long time, she looked up with an earnest, surprised face. ssI cannot see," she said, ''who is to come after Uncle William, unless it is myself. !" 'sIt is a very solemn thing, she added, when her tutor had assured her that she had made no mistake. '"There Is splendor, but there is responsibility. will be good" Her girlhood from this time was sobered by thoughts of her coming reign. When, six years afterward, having passed her eighteenth birthday, she received at 5 o'clock in the morning the news of the kings death, she was young in years, but mature in thought, self-possessed in man. ner and with a mind of her own. The archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Cham berlin and the royal physician, who form ed her first deputation, were greatly inn pressed with her dignifed bearing, her composure and her wOmanliness. A few hours afterward when she received the members of her first council with Viscount Melbourne at their head, this favorable impression was greatly strengthened. These veterans of the public service per- ceived that it was no giddy or ill-disci- plinede girl who had succeeded to the English throne, but princess of genuine force of character, swayed by a sense of responsibility.
 When the coronation ceremonies occur red the queen had been for year on the throne. She had already opened her first parliament and become accustomed to the duties and privileges of her exalted station. There was procession of state equipages by route two or three miles long to ena- ble all London and half a million visitors from rural England to see their youthful sovereign. The queen entered the abbey, as her enthusiastic biographers declare, gay as 8 lark and happy as a bride, and without showing signs of fatigue perform ed her part in St. Dunstan's interminable consecration service as if she had frequent ly been crowned before. The administra- tion of the oaths of state and church, the offering of the ingot of gold on the altar, the anointing of her hands and forehead with oil, the occupation of Edward the confessor's chair, the betrothal with the ring of rubies, and at last the coronation itself and communion office occupied the greater part of the afternoon. It is this royal and religious pageant of fifty years ago that was commemorated by grate- full nation on Tuesday on the anniversary of her succession to the crown and the details of the procession, the seating ar rangements in the abbey, and many fea- lures of the ceremonial itself were pat termed closely after the last crowning pageant in the abbey.